"A Fevered Reconciliation"

Geralt's eyes fluttered open, and he was met with a wave of dizziness that threatened to pull him back under. He groggily lifted his head, his gaze focusing on a blurry figure hovering over him. As his vision cleared, he saw Jaskier's concerned face, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. "Geralt, oh gods, you're burning up," Jaskier said, his voice laced with worry as he felt Geralt's forehead. "I've been searching for you everywhere. I found you here, half-asleep and rambling incoherently. What happened?" Geralt tried to speak, but his throat was parched and his words came out in a hoarse whisper. "I'm...I'm sorry, Jaskier. I was a fool to say those things. I didn't mean to hurt you." Jaskier's expression softened, but his eyes still held a hint of anger. "You didn't mean to? You didn't mean to, or you just didn't think about how your words would affect me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hurt and frustration. Geralt winced, his fever-addled brain struggling to form coherent thoughts. "I...I didn't think. I'm sorry, Jaskier. I was wrong to lash out at you. You're my friend, my only friend, and I was stupid to risk losing you." Jaskier sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. "I'm still angry, Geralt. I won't deny it. But I couldn't just leave you like this. You're not exactly in a position to take care of yourself." He glanced around the room, his eyes taking in the empty ale mug and the cold, dark fireplace. "You've been here for hours, just lying there, muttering nonsense. I had to get you out of here before the patrons started to get suspicious." Geralt tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, forcing him back onto the bed. Jaskier gently pushed him back, holding him down with a firm hand. "Easy, Geralt. You need rest, not exertion. I'll take care of you, but you have to promise me one thing: you have to listen to me, and you have to mean it. No more thoughtless words, no more hurtful remarks. Can you do that for me?" Geralt nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He knew he had hurt Jaskier deeply, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right between them. As Jaskier helped Geralt sit up and handed him a waterskin, Geralt took a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe his parched throat. He looked up at Jaskier, his eyes searching for forgiveness. "Thank you, Jaskier," Geralt said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I owe you one." Jaskier smiled wryly, his eyes still holding a hint of concern. "You owe me more than that, Geralt. But for now, let's just focus on getting you better."